


Retrograde

by hitchhikingbabeh



Category: EXO (Band), K-pop
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2020-05-12 11:54:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19228642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hitchhikingbabeh/pseuds/hitchhikingbabeh





	Retrograde

The set up is brilliant. The moonlight streaking in through the long and wide windows of your living room shine brightly against the backdrop, making the gray of it glimmer quite beautifully. You still aren’t very sure why you’ve gone with that color for your photography project, but so far it’s working out well. It’s a simple set up for a simple assignment. You adjust your DSLR on its tripod, and soon enough a click indicates that the camera is ready to shoot. You adjust the aperture and shutter speed to fit your current lighting and your desired temperature. Just to be safe, you take some test shots. You’ve never been a fan of using the flash setting with any camera, so you’re quite proud of how you’ve set up the room so that the moonlight coming in hits the reflectors you’ve set up strategically to fill up the room with the silver light. You’re a particular fan of how the white of your leather Chesterfield sofa just pops right out of the whole set, perfectly framing your model.

Now, if only said model would behave.

You and Do Kyungsoo are not best friends. Even calling him a friend would be somewhat off. Not that you don’t get along, you seriously do. You met him through mutual friends, impossible as it may sound. Suddenly you found yourself seeing him at every gathering your closest friends planned because his best friend outside the idol world was one of your own, and it wasn’t too long before you were formally introduced. That night you flashed him the most dazzling smile and he wasn’t sure how to respond, which made you laugh and think that you’d never met someone with such an adorable face. You maybe considered for a moment telling him that his mouth looked like a work of art, but seeing his cheeks stained red you thought he might run away from you. 

It took time for the both of you to be able to carry a conversation beyond the courtesies, but it got almost too easy as months went by, to the point where you missed him when he was off to goodness knows where promoting. You often found yourselves reacting similarly to a lot of things, connecting over others and respectfully disagreeing on the rest. There was a strange magnetism flowing between the two of you, and it was impossible to miss, because even though you were so outside his world, somehow he felt like you fit perfectly. The attraction had a tendency to scare people off, so you would often end up having conversations alone while the rest of your friends chatted among themselves, wondering what an idol and an aspiring writer would have to talk about. Numbers were exchanged by the third meeting, and little teases and playful lines started flying by almost immediately after. You were clever and he loved it, and he was cunning and you loved it. 

Still, it’s not friendship. It never has been. 

It wasn’t friendship because you never texted him except to congratulate him on winning this or that award or him telling you to get this book or asking you if you’ve seen this or that foreign film, because you didn’t want to be a burden to him and he didn’t want you to feel like you were. Yet tonight you only send him a message asking him to come over, no purpose or reason included, and here he is. By some miracle he’s both in the country and free, and you can’t be happier, or more anxious. The two of you have been alone before, but it’s a little different when he’s posing as you bask in his undeniable winsomeness from behind a camera.

His face, in what you can only guess is an attempt at hiding how nervous he is, is completely flat, making for the most inexpressive expression you have ever seen. He looks almost angry at you, but you know that this is the face he makes when he doesn’t feel as confident as he’d like. But he has absolutely nothing to be insecure or nervous about within these four walls, you muse with a quiet smile. 

He’s the tallest person in the room, for one, which discards his slight height complex. He’s all made up from his schedule that day, his hair up and to the left like he likes it the most, so he knows his face looks flawless. Today is not a day when he’s wearing sweats and a t-shirt, but instead a black well-fitted V-neck and a pair of faded skinny jeans, clad together by simple combat boots that he discarded at your doorstep. He looks good and he knows it. You eye him curiously through your camera lens, wondering what could possibly be causing him to wear this strong of a poker face in front of you. He’s hiding something. For now, you think you should ignore it, since it’s quite in his nature to hide his true feelings. You can certainly think of a few ways to make him talk .  

He hears the camera go off a few times as snapshot after snapshot is taken, and wonders how you always manage to look so perfectly disheveled whenever he sees you. There you are, wearing a black ruffle mini-skirt and an oversized white jumper, with your hair looking like you’d rolled out of bed just a few hours ago (and you probably just did) and yet you look as photoshoot ready as he does. Your face is radiant even though you’re only wearing lipstick and a little mascara, and it’s how he sees you behind his eyelids when it’s late at night and he can’t sleep. The smell of your perfume is everywhere in the room, which makes his thoughts cloud every few seconds, partly because the scent is captivating and he hasn’t forgotten it since the day you met, but mostly because he sometimes finds himself missing it when you’re not around.

If he told you any of this, you’d have a field day. You love to tease him, and you do it very often, poking fun at him because he’s shorter than most guys and you even though you’re shorter than him, you tell him you’ll wear high heels next time you see him. You don’t, naturally, because he knows you hate wearing heels unless it’s absolutely necessary. You wink at him when he smirks and he pretends that he’s not amused when really everything you do is amusing to him.

You tease him because his astigmatism gets the better of him sometimes and you ask if he can recognize you from a few feet away, and he tells you he obviously can, and even if he couldn’t he’d still say he can because he really could recognize your face and your pretty hair and even the back of your neck anywhere. 

You constantly grab at his hands to take them out of his face because he’s biting his fingernails and you hate it, but he keeps doing it until you hold them for more than just a moment and he can feel the invigorating warmth of your skin before you start to scold him for his bad habit. It’s ridiculous because he’s a famous singer and actor and he doesn’t even have time to worry about himself, and yet the lack of your presence is striking and he misses the sound of your melodious laugh and the sight your perfect pearly smile the moment you turn your back to him and walk away to your normal life, a piece of which he wishes he still had, and already he can’t wait to see you again. 

So far a humorous quip has yet to leave your mouth, which makes him think that maybe you’re onto him, and he panics internally. It’s so like you to read into people’s faces and know exactly what they want. In his case, it’s simple. He wants you. But he can’t bring himself to say anything, and his face is as blank as he can make it to hide just how much he really wants,  _needs_  you.

A sigh leaves your mouth as you move from behind the camera and start to walk in his direction. He watches you warily, and his expression makes the corners of your mouth tilt upwards and your heart flutter for just a second. 

“Why are you so tense?” you ask nonchalantly, your hands going around him and landing on his shoulder blades, which makes him straighten up immediately. His bad posture bothers you sometimes, because the way he usually walks and stands has his shoulders stooping, making his back seem much narrower and smaller than it actually is. You smile at him now, standing upright and looking straight at you with the same deadpan expression, and you can’t help but think that his skin is really warm and that you should probably stop touching him. 

“I’m not tense, I’m just tired,” he replies in a monotone as your hands drop back to your sides and you take a step back to examine him some more, your smile widening. 

“Then pose properly. Push your chest out, and for crying out loud, make your face do something,” you chuckle, but he does not react. There is definitely something on his mind, something that’s bothering him very much, and you’re determined to find out what it is. Still, he pushes his chest out slightly and slides his hands into his pockets. 

Much better. 

“It’s just one portrait,” you practically beg, “can you smile or laugh or scowl for one picture? Do I need to tickle you? Should I make fun of your dancing?” his eyes narrow at you, giving you that one look where he looks more like a stalker than an idol, and you only laugh, because this is the Kyungsoo that you know. “Well, at least that’s something!” you beam for a second before his expression flattens again. 

You sigh and run a hand through your hair as you walk back to the camera, and you realize that it’s gotten really long as you brush the handful to the left of your head. His eyes widen because he loves it when you do that, and you smile yourself because it looks oddly the way he does it when he’s nervous. The pictures you’ve taken so far look fine, but would be perfectly laughable if you showcased them at your next photography class. Feeling defeated, you sneak your hand into the minuscule pocket of your skirt and pull out the remote for your speakers, pressing play to whatever you had last been listening to. 

Cool lounge music to help settle the mood?

Kyungsoo’s whole life revolves around music, so his face relaxes as it fills the room. He would have preferred some R&B to help him unwind, but [D](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D1wc3RtxGftA&t=NzNkMDI0ZjllZDMyYzg4NTFlN2Q1OTlmZTMwMDg1NDBhMTNmOTlhNixWVER1d1BCSg%3D%3D&b=t%3AcXtpvFymmD9Dd4fNv0MUqQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fhitchhikingbabeh.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F94469694173%2Fretrograde-m&m=1)isclosure sounds fine, too. You watch as his veil slowly dissipates, and his true colors start to come out. His eyes soften into his more customary lost-in-thought look, and his face slowly begins to shift to some normalcy. You smile immediately at him, and his gaze leaves yours, almost like he’s embarrassed. That is certainly not customary. Kyungsoo could be embarrassed about a lot, but not about taking one picture. He is an idol, of all things. Why is he so off?

”What’s wrong?” you had to ask outright now, the curiosity is driving you to the walls and making you impatient. 

He looks up at you again, a hand going to rub the back of his neck. He smiles the tiniest smile and shakes his head. “It’s nothing, I’m just tired,” he responds in a much more human tone and feigns a yawn. Your eyes are narrow with suspicion. 

“No,” you nag on, “There’s something wrong. What’s up? Why are you acting weird?” and at this, his face becomes rigid again. 

“I’m not acting weird, I’m trying to help you with your stupid project,” he knows the adjective is unnecessary, but he is also not as patient as you think he is. You recognize that this is not at all about the pictures in about two seconds, and you register that he’s angry. You don’t know why but it makes you grin, riling him up even more. 

“If you wanted to help with my stupid project, you’d be cooperating. Why are you really here?” you don’t care that he called your project stupid. You’re just an amateur and it’s just something you decided to pick up as a hobby, and you know he doesn’t mean it. But you definitely do not expect what happens next.

Kyungsoo’s face is furious before his eyes just widen and he sighs. “Fine. Fine!” he raises his arms like he’s holding up an invisible white flag, “I’m not here to pose for you. I’m here because you’ve been driving me insane and I can’t take it anymore,” he looks straight into your eyes with complete seriousness. Your own eyes widen at his tone, and you take one step in his direction looking like a deer in the headlights. What the hell is he talking about now? 

“Oh, c’mon, don’t not play dumb. Every time you wink at me, or look at me like that, or when you smile—exactly how you’re smiling right now! You know what it does to me, don’t you?” indeed, the smile on your face is undeniable and knowing because you now understand precisely what he’s trying to get at. 

You wink at him and look at him with sparkling eyes because you always feel a strange pull from him whenever you’re both in the same room, and it’s the kind of pull that’s just too strong to ignore, so you never do. You take every opportunity to tell him without words that you feel the pull and that there is no way he doesn’t feel it, too. 

“And you know I’m not the kind of person that lets himself get worked up over anything other than work, but you’ve broken down all of the walls that I put up. So fine,  _congratulations_! I’m here because I’m giving up. You did it, I can’t concentrate on anything anymore because your stupid face is always running through my stupid head and I just needed to do something about it and  _my God_  does it feel good to say it out loud,” he lands on the sofa with one last sigh and covers his face with both of his hands. You cannot hold back the smile that is tearing through your face. In fact, you had planned on saying something about the ridiculous attraction between the two of you tonight, if only he had waited a little longer. 

You lift the tripod from its place and move it to a far corner of the room, away from sight and mind before you return and eye him with a smirk. Who could’ve thought Do Kyungsoo of all people would be in your apartment saying those things to you and looking like a bloody angel with his face in his hands? He looks so adorable you might squeal, but your mind is quite far from such innocent thoughts.

   ”So you think about me all the time, huh?” you ask, taking one step toward him. His hands do not move from his face, but a muffled ‘ _yes’_  the sound of his trademark whimper of embarrassment that makes him sound like a wolf cub lets you know that he’s not completely drowning in senseless shame. You tap your index finger to your chin even though he can’t see you, because he’s tempting you to play and you’ve waited really long to play like this. 

“Hmm,” you coo, knowing that though his eyes are not on you, his ears are, “I wonder what kinds of things I was doing on your mind,” you say in a small voice, your hands now going to the hem of your jumper. His hands do not budge yet. He must have been so scared of your reaction that he is totally not catching on to where you’re headed with this conversation. You almost sigh because he can be surprisingly stupid, and easily lift your jumper over your head and throw it to some far off corner, moving closer to him in just the black mini-skirt and your black lace bra. “Was I really cute or really sexy?” it feels dumb to be so blatant and you usually like to dance around the suggestive lines instead of outright saying them. 

”Yah, I know that I look pretty pathetic right now, but you don’t have to make fun of me,” he still refuses to drop his hands from his face, and you decide that it’s time to just go all the way. 

Your footsteps are quiet as you stand directly in front of him. The malicious smile reappears on your face as you ever so delicately straddle him, and his body only stiffens when you sit right between his legs. He freezes completely, earning himself a laugh from you. You in turn grab his hands, moving them away from his face with some force. 

“Kyungsoo. Look at me,” you order, and your tone is so severe that his eyes pop open immediately. A split second later they widen at the sight of you. 

You didn’t look this good even in his wildest dreams, and his brain turns to mush and his throat dries right up because no one can look this cute and this hot at the same time. 

“Did I look a little bit like this?” you tilt your head to the side so innocently as you take both of his hands in yours and intertwine your fingers, purposefully rocking your hips ever so softly against him. He lets out a surprised whimper and he’s pretty sure his heart rate is rising to level inhuman as he looks into your eyes and forgets what language or words or coherence means. Then it dawns on him that he has no idea how you feel, and thinks that maybe you’re just playing with him, and even then he cannot dare to move. Looking up at you he thinks he might have been dreaming, but words still fail him. The sight of you is breathtaking, and it’s sending all sorts of hot flashes through his body, and all he wants is for you to just take him already.

 _Well_ , you think to yourself, _let’s play a little game until the pretty pale boy with the pretty red mouth comes to his senses_.

”Are you really not going to say anything?” you ask playfully, making up your mind to torture him into speaking as you took your joined hands to either side of him and grind against him.  _There it is,_  and your grin widens when you feel a hardness press against you. You add an extra bit of pressure on him as you slowly slide off his lap and he spreads his legs as you move, making way so you can land perfectly between them on your knees.

Kyungsoo knows exactly what you’re doing. He’s sure you noticed how his breathing is starting to get heavier, and he is positive you can tell by now that he isn’t going to tell you to stop. He misses the warmth of your pretty hands when you let them go to take care of his belt, but he won’t move a muscle. He watches you through glazed eyes and bites his lower lip as you skillfully unbutton his pants and unzip them before you look up at him. You register the desire in his gaze and feel your stomach flip and you’re certain that you’re having heart palpitations. 

Already he’s doing things to you, and he hasn’t even said a word. 

You decide that you just have to hear him moan, scream, anything, so you smile and palm him until you know he’s ready. You don’t look up at him again but you can feel his eyes on you and you know he’s biting his lower lip and he never knew but you can’t ever think straight when he does that. You smile and move to push his pants and his underwear down to his knees, freeing him, and you can’t help but run your tongue through your lips at the sight. He is really just gorgeous through and through.

Watching you is making him so hot he isn’t sure how much longer he can hold back the groan he’s been dying to let out and the dirty words crawling up his throat. The sight of your tongue as it runs past your lips makes him want to grab you by the hair and slam your mouth against him, but just then your hands join his again and they’re pressed hard at his sides. His heart is pounding hard against his chest now, and his breath is failing him as he watches you lean forward so slowly it’s agonizing but he can’t say anything or do anything because he’s afraid he’s going to wake up and you won’t really be there.

At first you only kiss and lick the tip of him, waiting for a reaction. Kyungsoo’s head darts backwards and he fights against your hands, but you hold them firmly against the sofa. You smile at the saltiness already seeping through, and open your mouth, engulfing the whole tip and running our tongue around experimentally. Kyungsoo hisses and suppresses a moan, which you do not like at all. So you run your tongue along him and then move to lean in deeper, and deeper, until the tip of him hits the back of your throat. You relax as much as you can while still pinning his hands to the sofa, and hollow your cheeks as you pull back, your tongue still playing around the salty skin, feeling for where he can feel you best. 

“ _G-god_ ,” he finally lets out a full moan because just the thought of you is making his head spin, and the feeling of your hot tongue against his sensitive skin is just too good.

The sound makes your concentration falter, and you’re sure that your panties are now soaked with want for him. You let go of one of his hands. He moans again with gratitude as his hand quickly finds its way through your hair, clutching firmly. You take your own hand to the base of his shaft to help you as you descended upon him again, licking a particularly protruding vein as you do so. His hips buck and his tip hits the back of your throat as his hand reflexively pushes you down, and you only chuckle as your hand pushes him back to his place. The vibration of the sound makes him gasp before he purses his lips and moans again and clutches your hair a bit harder. Thank the heavens that you hardly have a gag reflex, otherwise things would have turned out very differently. You let him push you in and out of him at a pace that he liked, always moving your tongue against the place that he liked and aiding yourself with your hand until his panting was much quicker, though his moans are not as loud as you want them to be. The noise is still so damn beautiful you’re feeling wetness trickle down your thighs. He breathes in sharply and his body jerks again and his hands tighten in your hair, and you know he’s close.

”Oh, fuck I can’t—stop.  _Stop_!” his hand leaves your hair and his breathing is shallow, and you hollow your cheeks again as you pull away with an audible  _pop_. You look up at him as he attempts to catch his breath, his eyes never straying from yours. You release his hand and immediately he goes to lift his V-neck over his head before throwing it over his shoulder, glad to feel the cold winter air against his hot skin. You can’t help but bite your lip at the smooth, marble-like look of his chest. You can’t wait to touch him, but you have to hold back. You have to hold back so he doesn’t realize that you don’t just feel the magnetic attraction for him. 

“Come here,” he says, and his voice is so husky it’s making you bite down your lip a little harder as you stand up. He looks you up and down. He really loves you like this. Your cheeks are flushed and your breathing is uneven, and he does not miss the drop falling down your inner thighs, either. His hand goes out to unzip your skirt, and when it glides to your feet he grabs the waistband of your panties. Without too much effort, the garment slides right down your legs and you gladly step out of your clothes. His hands move again, this time up your thigh to where he really wants to touch and where you really want him to, but you grip his hands again and put them behind his head. He looks at you with something caught between concern and surprise as you straddle him again, your naked core now rubbing against his. You give him a look of warning as you momentarily let go of his hand to line him up against you, and his breath hitches when his tip runs up your core and he groans because now he can feel just how wet he’s made you.  

All that is on your mind is taking him so high up that he forgets his own name. You have no time to think about getting teased, you just want him inside you, and you want him now. So with his tip already against you and making you see hazy, you retake his hands and slide down.

You moan in unison at the contact, because he’s stretching you so nicely and filling you up so well, and because you’re so wet and so hot around him that he has to fight your grip on his hands and that his hips buck up, lifting the both of you momentarily. You gasp at the incredible sensation of him, and feel him struggle against your hands. Yet again you hold them down, and unknowingly flex your lower body, making him let out the most delicious moan you have ever heard. You throw your head back because you can’t help but rock against him, because he’s making you feel too good and you need to let him know. His hands give up for the time being and you slowly move up and down and roll your hips against him, and he moves along with you as Alina Baraz sings about paradise and you think this feeling has to be illegal. You look into his eyes, and he into yours, and your faces lean closer as you start to pant. 

You still haven’t told him how you feel, and he has to know. Just not yet.  _Not yet_ , you repeat to yourself as your heart thuds angrily against your ribcage and the bundle of nerves in your center begs you for release, so you move faster.

   He can’t take it. You’re making him see white already, and he can’t bear it. He loves the way your hands grip him so tightly, but he doesn’t want you to hold him anymore. He can’t have you holding him back. 

“Please, _please, I need to touch you_ ,” he moans, and your whole world goes insane at the sound of his deep voice and you shudder. You know that if you let him, you will lose all control. You’ve been doing well, focusing on making him feel good, but the sound of his voice begging like this is making you forget to follow your own rules. 

Does he have to know that you hadn’t stopped thinking about him since the moment you first saw him? Your heart screams yes but your head yells no. You can only let out a moan of frustration as you rock harder against him, and he feels so good you whimper as you shut your eyes. 

“Baby,” he pleads again, and you can’t not open your eyes to look at him, his eyes hooded and his eyebrows knit and his ungodly mouth open and panting and beautiful and so full of need that you almost feel like crying. “Please let me touch you, I need to feel you right now, please,  _please_ ,” and your head is spinning again because you want him to touch you, you need him to touch you.

So you let go.

His hot hands land on your hips first, and he rubs circles into your skin and moans because now that he can touch you, one more of his senses is heightened and he really is going to lose his mind. He presses you harder against him and you whimper his name and he smiles widely and goes to unclasp your bra, which he smoothly slides down your shoulders and proceeds to throw away. He basks in the sight of you, bouncing up and down with your mouth just slightly open and his mouth waters. He presses his lips against the skin between your breasts to kiss and suck and bite because he needs to mark you and let you know that he wants you to be his and no one else’s. 

The feeling of his teeth on your skin and his tongue and his wet mouth makes you want to die because Do Kyungsoo has to be a sin in human form and you’re sure no one alive has ever felt like you do right now and you have to slow down because you have to feel him all over you. Your hands run around his marble skin and his lean muscles, then over his gorgeous collarbones, and then you feel the warmth around his neck before your hands are lost in the silky dark hair that you’ve been dying to touch. It feels as soft as you always imagined it would, and you can’t help the grin that forms on your face as you push him harder against your skin and his hands cup your breasts and his thumbs rub circles on your nipples and his mouth moves to mark somewhere else. When your moans escalate several octaves, he looks up at you. 

“You are so fucking gorgeous,” one of his arms goes around your neck to pull you down, and your noses brush against each other momentarily before he presses his mouth against yours.

The whole world stops for the next minute. His mouth is surreal to even look at, but you could have never imagined it would taste so sweet or feel so soft. You stop moving above him and your hands go to cup both of his cheeks, pressing your chest against his before you lose yourself completely into his kiss. He sucks your lower lip into his mouth, biting to bring you down even further. Just then, his core goes so deep into yours that he hits a spot that makes your vision starry, and you let out one long, loud moan into his mouth.

This is his wake up call and your kryptonite. 

“Oh  _fuck_ , Kyungsoo,” you moan against him again and roll your hips reflexively. It’s his turn to grin as he grabs you by the hips again, bucking his own to meet you and get that spot over and over and over at such a perfect speed until both your bodies are covered in a thin layer of sweat that makes your skin glisten in the light of the moon, and it feels like you’re in a burning room. You dig your nails into his shoulders as he shifts in that one way that just makes your whole body tremble, and your mouth drops open because you’re so close and before you can catch yourself, you’re right on his ear. You’re whispering how he feels so good and you’ve never felt like this before and how he’s making your head spin and he hardens even more inside you, his breath in your neck and in your ear and so delicious you might go insane before he falters in his movements and you in yours. 

You know he’s over the brink because you feel streaks of heat inside you, but you can’t stop moving now because you have to take him even higher. You feel the tightness crawl up your body as he gasps for air but you still can’t stop because it feels so good, and then it’s finally here. The intensity takes your voice away and you grip him a little harder, tilting your body slightly backwards so you can make him feel the way you do, and your walls pulsate around him with so much force that his own body shakes before you’re both completely drained and he lets out out the one loud and long moan of your name you’ve waited so long to hear. It makes you smile and bite down on your lip as you moan into the air and he pants against your skin, still riding out your pleasure before he pulls out a final time and lifts you, letting you then carelessly slide next to him.

Neither of you move for the next few seconds in an attempt to catch your breath. Your whole body is pulsating in time with your thumping heartbeat, and you look over at him to find that he’s pulled his briefs up, lost the pants and has leaned his head back on the sofa. He peers over at you with that smile that makes his eyes turn to twin crescents, the one that makes girls all over the world weak at the knees. You want to look away because it’s making you blush, but then he moves his hand to cup your cheek. You sink to the contact and when he starts to pull you close to him, you close your eyes before your lips meet again. His kiss is different this time, but no less intense. You think again that his mouth had to have been sculpted by pure genius because it makes your whole body flutter before his tongue licks at your lips to invite yours to a dance, and you gladly oblige. 

The both of you are too exhausted to keep the truss going for too long, and you pull away first because you might pass out if you lose any more air. You don’t move too far from him, though, and the tips of your noses still brush against one another as you settle your head right by his. 

“What happens now?” he asks, and you smile because his eyes are serious.

“Whatever you want,” you reply simply, because at this point, there is no denying that you’ve given yourself completely to Do Kyungsoo. 

“I don’t want to just be friends, Do you?” you love how direct he’s being, this is more like him. 

“I don’t think I ever saw you as just a friend,” you answer, it’s the truth and it makes perfect sense. His smile widens because this is your way of saying that you feel exactly like he does. 

“So do you want to get coffee or dinner with me tomorrow?” he asks, and you laugh because you now realize that everything tonight has gone in the opposite order that it’s supposed to, and he mirrors your amusement. 

“Of course,” you respond, because you really don’t want to be apart from him anymore. A few seconds of pleasant silence go by before you nuzzle into his neck and sigh. 

“Bed?” you say, and he can hear how tired you are before he lets out a chuckle.

“Bed,” he replies, and you sit up to watch him as he stands up to grab your underwear from the floor before handing it to you. He then moves along to grab only his shirt and your jumper, because he’s not going to put anything else on and neither are you. 

He stands by you and holds out your jumper, and you grab it as you stand up to put it on, already feeling sore. “Holy shit,” you groan at the general weakness, and your knees wobble when you try to walk, which makes him burst out laughing and even you have to chuckle, because no matter how fond you are of being on top, it always takes a toll on your legs. 

“Yah!” you exclaim, going to hit his arm but missing because he’s always had quick reflexes, “don’t laugh! This is your fault!” but he’s now clutching his sides because you look adorable and he can’t help himself. He moves closer to you and his arms go around your hips before he lifts you up. Your eyes widen at how easily he does it, because you’ve always thought he was more on the weak side. One of his hands stays at your back while the other hoists your legs around him and he starts to walk toward the only hallway in the apartment, the one that leads to your bedroom. Your arms go around him because you really don’t want to walk right now, and you bury your head in the crook of his neck, loving how warm his skin is. 

“I hate you,” you say, and it sounds serious but he only laughs.

”You really don’t.”

You really don’t.


End file.
